


You are Loved

by ozuttly



Category: Fate/Zero, Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Crossover, Destiel if you squint - Freeform, Friendship, Gen, Iri and Cas are friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-21
Updated: 2013-01-21
Packaged: 2017-11-26 08:46:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/648741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ozuttly/pseuds/ozuttly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel's search for God ends up with him seeking out the vessel of the Holy Grail. He finds that they have more in common than he thought. Set in season 5 of Supernatural, contains some spoilers for Fate/Zero, Irisviel's story in particular.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You are Loved

He's chasing down a means of finding God and stopping the apocalypse when he first meets her. It's a dangerous trip, one he isn't sure he can manage while cut off from Heaven as he is, but somehow he manages it more or less in tact. His strength is waning, though, when he appears before her, the shadows of his wings reflecting off of the wall behind him. 

He thinks of Dean's reaction upon first meeting him – of the way he had fought with everything in his arsenal to try and find a way to kill him, of the mistrust in his eyes. He thinks of Sam's childish and misguided preconceptions of what they would be like, and he expects one of those upon pronouncing himself to be an angel of the Lord. 

The woman in front of him is not shocked or frightened, but nor is she awed by his presence. Instead, she simply smiles a beautiful, serene smile, dipping her head in greeting before clasping her hands in front of her. She's incredibly ladylike, and yet there's a child-like tint to her actions that he suspects has nothing to do with what he is and more with her. Like she always carries the air of a young girl who is nothing if not curious and excited about the world around her. 

“It's nice to meet you, angel,” she replies, and for the sake of politeness she even pulls at the edges of her skirt and curtsies. “My name is Irisviel.” 

*

He doesn't want to admit it, but he has little power left after showing himself to her the first time. He needs to meditate and recover for a few hours, and he certainly doesn't want to deal with the enclosing, warning presence of the woman that's obviously sensed him. So he leaves her quickly, finding himself a small place in the city where he can rest. 

It isn't particularly easy. He stands out, dressed as he is in a foreign country, and one not known for its kindness towards westerners. But he manages, and after a day he is recovered enough to speak to her again. He puts the other woman to sleep first this time, and when he appears before Irisviel she has a disapproving, chiding look on her face. 

“It was rather rude of you to treat Maiya-san in such a way,” she replies before he even speaks, and he pauses under her harsh gaze. She looks like a mother chastising a petulant child, and he bristles slightly under her eyes. Eventually he looks away, and she seems to accept it as remorse. “The next time you wish to drop by, I'll inform her not to bother us. She's simply trying to protect me, is all.” 

He frowns, suddenly feeling uncomfortable sitting in the room with her. The next time he comes to drop by. He had hoped that this would be the last time he'd visit, the last time he'd have to. But she seemed so delighted in having company, in the way that so few were these days when he showed himself to them. She didn't desire his help with anything, wasn't looking at him like she only wanted good news, or like she was afraid that they would both die the next day. She was looking at him like he was a houseguest, despite knowing what he was, and it was pleasing in a way that he couldn't quite describe. 

“My name is Castiel,” he rumbles, and she looks up at him and smiles that soft, warm smile again, gesturing at the table across from her to sit, so he does. They're in an old, japanese-styled home, a kind the likes of which he's never sat in before, and she watches as he takes in their surroundings. 

“It's different, isn't it?” She breaks him out of his thoughts, and he looks towards her, watching her expression as she sips tea from a cup on the table before her. She looks regal and elegant and at the same time not, and it's a very strange and foreign look on a being that he has to remind himself isn't human. 

If Sam and Dean were to meet Irisviel, they would likely not pay attention to the curious air that swirled around her, or the obvious joy she found in simple things. They would see her as a monster that needed hunting, the same way that they saw everything they didn't understand, the same way that Dean had originally seen Castiel himself, and something clenches in his stomach at the thought. Instead of focusing too much on it, he turns to her instead, nodding curtly.

“I've come in search of the Holy Grail,” he says, ignoring her attempts at small talk, but she doesn't seem annoyed. Instead, she seems to understand, seems to realize that he's not trying to offend her, seems to see all the little ways that he just isn't quite used to being human, and she accepts it in a way that makes that strange warmth rise up in his chest. He feels like it's been far too long since he's met somebody who understood. 

“So have many in this city,” she replies calmly, taking another sip from her tea before a giggle rises in her throat. “Although I find it funny that an angel has come to look for me.” She grins up at him and he shifts, a small quirk of the lips that's barely noticeable flashing across his face. 

“These are... strange times,” he explains, and she doesn't push for more information. Instead he studies her, trying to piece together his next words carefully. “You are the keeper of the vessel of the Grail.” 

It isn't a question so much as a statement, and she nods calmly, but a sadness darkens her eyes, and it looks far too comfortable on her face. 

“That is... correct, in a way.” Irisviel is trying to avoid the subject, and he fixes her with a stare. She meets it back, still smiling, still with that sad look in her eyes. “Angels... Are born with a purpose, right? To protect heaven?” 

The question catches him off guard, and his back straightens as he nods his head sharply. He doesn't mention that he's fallen from that position, that he probably doesn't even have the right to call himself an angel any longer. 

“The Einzbern family has, indeed, always been the keeper of the Grail's container. However, sixty years ago, that vessel was damaged.” 

Castiel can feel the despair creeping into him, knowing that this was another dead end, that there was no way he'd be able to go back sixty years, that he'd failed again. But Irisviel doesn't stop speaking. 

“To ensure that such a thing wouldn't happen again, when crafting the new container, the Einzbern family decided that it should be able to keep itself from harm, protect itself. And so, the vessel was given consciousness, and the name Irisviel.” 

Castiel stared at her, watching her as she spoke, but her face belied nothing. She looked calm, peaceful, and the expression on her face as she continued reminded him of the one that he'd seen on countless humans in the past. It was a look of fondness and love. 

“The empty container was then handed over to a man by the name of Emiya Kiritsugu. He protected her, and taught her many things about the world, like how to make decisions, how to drive a car. And they fell in love, even though they knew that it would end poorly.” She met his eyes then, and the tone in the room changed ever so slightly. It was still calm, but there was a quiet strength there that he couldn't disagree with. “I have decided that I will help Emiya Kiritsugu obtain the Holy Grail, in order to fulfil his wish. So, Castiel, I apologize, but I cannot help you.” 

Castiel sat quietly for a moment, then nodded once more and disappeared with a flapping of wings. 

*

The third time they met had not been planned. Castiel should have left. He should have gone back to the Winchesters and his own time, knowing that staying here was a bad idea. He had his own battles to fight.

He still appeared in the old storage shed once he was sure that Irisviel was alone, and she didn't so much as flinch at his sudden appearance. 

“...We are born with a purpose,” he says before he realizes it, and she doesn't even look confused, as though she knows exactly what he's referring to even though their last conversation was over a day ago. 

She leaves her things where they are and turns to him, smiling that smile again, and he feels something in his stomach constrict at the sight. He doesn't continue for a few moments, unsure of what to say, but then he remembers her telling of the story of the Grail, so he wets his lips with his tongue and speaks. 

“Angels are born to act as servants of God, to protect Him and His word. However... after a time, He disappeared. A single angel met a man... A soul he was sent to retrieve from Hell, and that man opened up the angel's eyes to the fact that Heaven's actions were no longer just. The angel... defied his purpose. He chose to fight for free will instead, even though he knew it was a battle that would likely be lost.” 

She watches him silently, and then gently reaches out. Her touch is gentle, far weaker than it should be, as she clasps his hands in hers. 

“But does the angel believe that the battle is worth fighting? Does he believe that this man and his ideals are worth fighting for?” She asks, and he swallows thickly, but he doesn't hesitate before he answers. 

“Yes. Absolutely.” 

Her eyes are kind, and he briefly wonders if this is what Dean and Sam felt from their mother Mary before she died. A soft understanding and an overwhelming sense of acceptance. 

“Then I believe that the angel has made the right choice.” 

*  
The next few days were spent in a flurry of meetings, stolen at times when she was alone. Castiel told Irisviel of his hunt to find God, of how he wished to save the two brothers that had become his friends and the world that they lived in. He spoke of how lost he felt at times, how he doubted himself and yet couldn't agree with Heaven, couldn't agree with the thought of destroying the world solely because it was destined to be. Iri offered him kind words, and in turn she told him of Kiritsugu, told him stories of how he had taught her everything she'd learned, and how he was the only one to treat her as a human being. She told him of how she loved him dearly, even though she knew that he would sacrifice her to achieve his goals, how she only wished for him to have something left after all this was over. How she had had a daughter – an action that should never have been possible for a homunculus – and how she loved Illya just as much as she loved her husband. Castiel told her of the Winchesters, told her of Dean and how he was rough and harsh but a good soul, and how Sam had made mistakes, so many mistakes, but he had always meant well. He told her of Dean's love for his car, of Sam's penchant for research, and occasionally, occasionally he spoke of his brothers and sisters left behind in heaven. 

She always smiled at him, then, and says in a joyous, praising voice;

“You have people who love you, Castiel. Isn't that the most important thing?” 

*

Irisviel's health was failing. Castiel had learned enough during his time with her that it was part of her fate, part of her destiny as the Grail's vessel. He asked her why she went through with it, why she was so willing to sacrifice herself when she had learned from Kiritsugu how to choose for herself. She always smiled at him then, soft as ever, and simply said that it was the same reason that he had made the choice to rebel for Dean. 

Because she loved Kiritsugu with all her heart, and wanted his wish to come true. 

*  
The days passed, and Castiel knew that he had to go back. The apocalypse would not wait for him, and he needed to get back to his search for God. This Grail was not something that would help him – he'd learned that more than a week ago, and yet he had not made a move to leave. 

He appeared in the storage shed one evening, as Irisviel was laying in her magic circle. She had lost the ability to move from that spot, and seeing her like that made something in Castiel twist painfully. But this was the last time. They both knew it as he sat down beside her on the stone floor, his fingers trailing along the concrete absently. They were both silent, until she looked up at him expectantly. 

“Castiel, please take my hand.”

He looked up at the request, wrapping his fingers around hers without question. Her arm had next to no strength, and her brow was furrowed in effort and concentration as she pushed his hand forward, to his own chest, over his heartbeat. He blinked, confusion clear on his face, and Iri only smiled that smile of hers that he would miss so much, her skin soft and smooth against his own. 

“There are people who love you, Castiel,” she said softly, her head tilted up towards him. “No matter how things go from now on, no matter how much you doubt, remember that. You love and you are loved. That is all that's important.” 

He's silent still, a lump in his throat before he gently lowers her hand, placing it and his own over her own heart. Her face looks surprised for a moment as he opens his mouth, his voice deeper and less steady that usual. 

“And you, Irisviel. There are also people who love you.”

He says it quietly, and the surprise on her face molds into the warmest look he's seen from her yet. He imagines that this is what it felt like to have a friend and a mother all in one. He is millenia older than she is, and yet she still makes him feel safe and comforted. 

“Yes,” she says as he feels the slow, steady thump of her heart under his hand. “And I am thankful for those people every day.” 

The corners of his lips quirk up, and he pulls his hands away. 

“The next time we meet I would like to introduce you to Dean,” he says, even though they know that there won't be a next time. She isn't human, even after death she won't enter Heaven, and she is not going to survive this war. But it's a promise he wants to make anyways, so he does. “And Sam as well. I... I am not particularly well versed in human rituals, however they would surely be able to teach you many things, like the joys of pie and bacon cheeseburgers. In fact, I could even ask Dean to allow you to drive his car.” 

Her eyes crinkle as he stands up. It's not a promise they can keep, but it hangs in the air between them anyways. 

“Thank you, Castiel. I would like that very much.” 

And with a flutter of wings, he's gone, his hand in the pocket of his trench coat as he fumbles for his cell-phone. He can't seem to pick it up the way he should, can't seem to get the numbers to work right. But right now, no matter the late hour, all he wants is to hear Dean's voice.


End file.
